


A Talk With The Doctor, or, George Who

by scifinut



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-20
Updated: 2011-06-20
Packaged: 2017-10-20 14:03:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifinut/pseuds/scifinut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor relates some questionable advice to Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Talk With The Doctor, or, George Who

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on a song by Jonathan Coulton called A Talk With George. Lyrics can be found [here](http://www.jonathancoulton.com/songdetails/A%20Talk%20with%20George), where you can also download the song for free.

It's only later that the Doctor realized he might have made a mistake. The bar was smoky and poorly lit, but he couldn't help himself meddling a little bit. It didn't help that Rory and Amy had gone off and left him here, drunk. Well, not entirely drunk. He was sober enough to recognize that it wasn't the best of plans, but drunk enough not to give a damn.

"Jack," he called quietly, motioning the young man over. At this point he's still a con man, running some scheme or another. At this point he's still perfectly human and his only use for Earth is a drop off place for stolen tech, to fly under the radar of intergalactic police forces. At this point, he has no idea what's in store for him, so it's time to start giving him advice. Not any that would make any difference in his life, but hopefully something that will stick.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?" Jack responded.

The Doctor smiled and raised his eyebrows in response. "I know I have some advice for you, so listen up, right?" He leans in close, careful to keep his face obscured. "Money isn't everything."

Jack looked vaguely annoyed. "That's your advice for me? Money isn't everything? And who are you to give me advice anyway?"

"Well, I would know, after all. I mean, I was lucky enough to have it, but there's things that everyone should do, and it isn't all about the money. I mean, you could always walk away right now, but you don't seem to be the type who wants to take life lying down. You seem to have a lot of life in you, am I right?" He knew he had hooked Jack and retreated a bit into the shadows. "But you're right. Who am I to give you advice? Go along your life if you want."

Jack took a few steps closer to the strange man. "What's your name, anyway?"

"George," replied the Doctor, coming up with something as quickly as he could. If he went with another name, Jack would recognize who he was at some point in the future.

"Okay, George," Jack said, obviously not believing the name. "What's your advice?"

"Well, there's quite a bit of it. I'd offer you a sit down, but there's no place to sit down right now, so listen up carefully. You seem like a good American chap, so be a good human and pay attention, yes?" Damn, he had slipped and mentioned human. Oh well, it was Jack, there was no telling whether he even noticed it. "First off is Hemingway. Great man. Spend plenty of time with him, it might rub off. Greatness does that, you know, rub off. And you'll obviously need to travel a lot, expand your horizons."

"Hemingway, right. And traveling." Jack nodded slowly, figuring if all the man did was ramble he wouldn't be too bad off listening. "Any place in particular I should go?"

"Spain," the Doctor replied imperiously. "Fantastic place, Spain. Best place for bullfighting." He turned towards Jack and wagged a finger towards his face. "You should do that, too. Bullfight. In Spain. But not in the rain. That's not a good plan."

Jack tried not to roll his eyes. "And once I've gotten over the pain of being gored by a bull?"

"You want pain? Well, let me tell you. There's going to be these guys, right? Sugar Moore and Archie Ray. No, wait...that's not right. Archie Moore and Sugar Less. Still not it. Sugar Ray and Archie Moore, yes! That's it!" The Doctor bowed his head in thought at this, standing up straight and sticking his index finger up as he got the names right. He leaned in and whispered darkly into Jack's ear. "Go against them for a few rounds. The fear will keep the pain at bay." He stepped back and smiled. "Then have them take you to Zaire. There'll be a lovely rumble there in the jungle, big fight. You've got to see it. I'm sure after you've survived your other two friends they can get you ringside seats." Maybe he was overdoing this, Jack had no way to know that the Doctor knew that he could travel through time.

Jack, however, didn't seem to be to terribly upset about the whole thing. The Doctor smiled and continued. "There's a lovely lady you simply _must_ meet. She goes by Jackie. You'll love her sunshades. And another person you have to get with, Hunter. He's a bit of a scandal, but quite the character." He shot a sly grin at Jack. "And then...but I can't tell you that. You'll knock him down early, try to be upstanding and all that. History wouldn't approve."

Jack was starting to look at him strangely. He wasn't quite sure if this was just some drunk man or something more, but he was quickly leaning towards more. "History wouldn't approve of what? And how would you know, anyway?"

The Doctor gave Jack his best conspiratorial grin. "Trust me, Jack, you're gonna love this next bit." He paused for effect. "Write."

"Write?"

"Write. A novel here or there, start up a magazine for fun. Even if you don't make a pound of it back, it's worth the experience. Oh, and date a trapeze artist." This had been a very bad idea, now the Doctor was sure of it. The least he could do now was make himself look like an absolute madman so Jack would be quick to ignore him. Hopefully.

"A trapeze artist?" Jack replied incredulously.

"What are you, a human parrot? Yes, a trapeze artist. You can get him to teach you how to do it, and then go swinging out over the circus by your feet. It would be marvelous, don't you think?" But then again, maybe he was overdoing the the madman bit. Too much and Jack would still remember him later. "But at the very least, throw parties all the time. Everyone loves a party, right?"

"Well, I can't say I've met everyone, but I can throw some great parties." Jack's eyes glazed over at some of his more recent endeavors in partying, many of which had caused laws to be written outlawing specific acts.

The Doctor's heart melted a bit at the look on Jack's face. This was a time in his life where he was happy with who he was, when he wasn't questioning everything that happened and looking back at things with regrets or blame. "Enjoy yourself. Do what matters." He looked around the bar, seeing several fancy drinks being served. "Have a cocktail. And wear a tie. Ties are cool."

Jack's eyebrows raised at the last bit. He was definitely not a man to wear a tie. "Anything else, George?"

"Yeah. When you fall down, and you will, show some grace. Don't be an ass about it." He was starting to sober up, which was more of a problem than it should have been. He couldn't just leave without giving something else, something important, but he couldn't give anything away or change Jack's future either. "Don't go another day without making it count, Jack Harkness. You're destined to be more than this. Something inside of you is screaming to get out, something bigger. And if you don't let it free, shame on you." He leaned in close, nearly whispering the last words. "And don't you dare forget it."

Jack stepped back, surprised and a bit nervous. Knowing his first name was one thing, that was being shouted around the bar, but he was certain he'd never met this man. He'd remember a face like that. More than that, nobody here knew what last name he was going by at the moment. "Okay, who the hell are you and how do you know me?"

The Doctor only smiled cryptically in response. "Goodbye, Jack. It's been lovely talking with you again." Before Jack could respond he had backed into the shadows, easing himself into the crowd and letting himself be carried away. Maybe he had said too much. Then again, maybe he'd said just enough.


End file.
